Band-Aid Effect
by Chephirah95
Summary: Fill for an avengerkink prompt ml?thread 13758077#t13758077 One night, when the Avengers are hanging out chatting/recovering from a traumatic mission/discussing a rape that happened to someone they know, they realize slowly as they talk that all six of them have been raped at least once at some point in their lives.
1. Opening Old Wounds

This story is pretty dark and I hope I did the serious subject real justice. Some concerns in the story are problems people really deal with. Self-blame, denial, fear etc... No one's experience is invalid and you all deserve heroes who know how it is and what it takes to get to a better place.

Hugs & Kisses To ALL

(I don't own MARVEL)

Band-Aid Effect

Everyone was in attendance. Tony, Steve, Bruce, Natasha, Clint, and Sam. Movie night had been abandoned. Nobody felt like watching anything. Instead, the topic of discussion turned to Steve's nonexistent love life, which was currently being spurred on by Tony.

"So Cap, ever have a girlfriend?"

"Well…"

"Other than Aunt Peg?" His faced turn an awful shade of pink. It's a well known fact that Steve is very private concerning certain matters.

"So are you still a virgin or…?

Several shouts of "Tony!" could be heard.

"What? It's an honest question. Don't tell me none of you are curious? So Cap, yay or nay?"

"Tony… it's… none of your business!"

There was a general consensus of laughter. Everyone knew Steve wouldn't answer just as much as everyone knew Tony wasn't just going to drop it.

"So you mean to tell me that you're a 70-year-old virgin? That's just sad Cap. Even for you."

The tips of Steve's ears were red and you could tell he wanted to be anywhere other than here.

"I'm not a virgin so cram it Stark!"

This was met with loud whoops and 'I knew you had it in you Steve's.

"I'm sure after the Serum you had your pick of the crop." Tony elbowed Steve as if they were sharing a common secret.

"It was before that." His reply was spoken softly and with no little awkwardness.

"Well _Damn_. Way to go Cap."

For the most part the conversation was between Tony and Steve until Sam joined in.

"So who was the lucky lady that deflowered our sweet Cap?" This was said with a suggestive wink.

Steve started to get uncomfortable. He was slightly shifting in his seat and playing with the edge of the table.

"She was older."

The guys really got a kick out of that.

"How old was she?" At this point everything was still light hearted.

"Around 30 I think."

"A MILF?" Several groans were heard.

"Stop it Tony! You know he doesn't know what that means. And trust me, you don't want to Steve." This came from Natasha who had been pretty much silent up until then.

"So how old were you? 18? 19?" Steve visibly tensed at Clint's question.

"Uhh… almost 11 if I remember correctly."

You could have heard a pen drop. The mood shifted quickly after that. The only one who still seemed amused was Thor and he didn't understand the Midgardian age system. To him we were all babies.

"Steve-" Bruce was interrupted.

"It's not like that! She was my nurse. Sure it was weird at first, but it got better." He blushed at the last part.

"Steve…" Bruce again.

"No Bruce. Don't look at me like that. You're all looking at me like that. She was just helping me. I was sick all of the time and never got to go outside to play. She was _helping_ me."

"Steve. She…"

He cut Sam off this time. Clint looked sick, Natasha's face was a mask, Tony was looking everywhere but at Cap, and Thor was only now noticing the tension in the room.

"No Sam. It's okay. It's not like she was a guy or anything. Then it would be different."

The room seemed to shrink at that.

"No Steve." This came from Bruce.

"No it wouldn't have. She took advantage of you Steve."

"Stop. Stop it. Nobody was taken advantage of. I _liked_ it." Steve seemed to be battling with himself. He didn't sound very sure anymore.

"Sexual arousal is just a biological thing. It doesn't mean…" This time he cut Natasha a glare.

"It can't be bad if I liked it Nat. I know what you're thinking and you're wrong. I didn't fight her. I was _okay_ with it." Steve was looking around frantically. Desperately trying to get everyone, _anyone_ , to understand.

"I fear I am lost in this matter?" Everyone turned to Thor. No one wanted to be the one to have to explain to him the significance of what was going on. Steve seemed a little relieved that the focus was no longer on him.

Clint took up the cause.

"Steve was underage. He couldn't give consent to anything sexual because he was just a kid. His nurse was an adult and she knew better." He aimed that last part at Steve.

Thor still seemed confused.

"But if he says he liked it. Is it so bad?"

"Physically being aroused doesn't mean you liked being abused. Doesn't mean you liked being manipulated. She was the adult and she was wrong. How can a child consent to that?"

"Nay! You misunderstand shield friends. Before I myself reached the age of majority, I found pleasure in a woman."

The room seemed a little nervous at this. Natasha took over then.

"If you were both close in age it's different. If they were an adult, then that's the problem."

"She was well past my age, but like friend Steve said. It was not bad." Now Thor looked even more confused. He really wanted us to understand that his abuse was okay.

"Thor… you were taken advantage of too."

"It is not so. My father knew." Now shit really hit the fan.

"What do you mean Thor?" Natasha's tone was deceptively calm.

"It was after my first successful training session. Father provided a woman for me. To celebrate my prowess in class." Bruce looked like he was turning green.

"Thor. I want you to listen to me carefully. You Father shouldn't have done that—"

"It's an age old tradition. Once you are able to train you are rewarded with—"

"Stop Thor please."

"Nay. You still misunderstand. I am victim of nothing. I was uncomfortable at first, but that is only because it was my first time. I liked it in the end."

Everyone drew the parallels between Steve and Thor's accounts. Bruce was the next to take up the mantle, and thus far the most successful.

"So when my uncle did that to me it was okay because I got aroused?" Every head turned to Bruce. But he was only focusing on Steve and Thor.

"Of course not! He's a _guy_!"

"Nay, he's _kin_!"

Everyone got a sad look on their face and Bruce powered through.

"I know you might have had to tell yourself that, but it is wrong. If no one ever told you it was, it is. I'm telling you now. My uncle wasn't wrong because he's male, or because he's related to me. He's wrong because what he did to me was wrong. He knew I didn't have friends. He knew my dad couldn't care less, and my mom was dead by then. He knew I wouldn't tell my Aunt either. I didn't want to go to a boys' home and she was nice. She reminded me of my mom. He knew that and used it against me. He was wrong. I don't care how gentle he was or what he said after. He was wrong. I'm sorry that happened to you two because you did nothing to deserve that."

Bruce was done. He just kept cleaning his glasses and working on his breathing.

Steve and Thor didn't know what to say. It's clear they were both struggling with this and were merely repeating things that were said to them.

"She was just trying to help," Steve practically screamed, "I don't know why you can't see that. She wanted me to feel better because I was always sick and wasn't allowed outside. She _cared_."

"Steve. She knew you were lonely and used it to her advantage," Sam really tried to get this across to Steve, "I know things like this have a way of negatively affecting your life, and you two probably don't want to talk about it but-"

"You would think so lowly of me? I am not scarred Son of Wil. I have enjoyed the company of many women!"

"I'm not traumatized Sam. This generation is just more open than I am."

"Did you ever tell your mom?'

"No Bruce. She would have been upset," he quickly continued before they got the wrong idea "because you're not supposed to do _that_ until you're married.

Sam looked near tears.

"Just hear me out okay. You two did nothing wrong. Something bad was done to you. You both said you didn't want it to begin with. That. Is. enough."

"Friend Sam, I didn't refuse her advances."

"I didn't fight either. I participated."

Sam _was_ crying now.

"Steve. Thor. You didn't have to fight back. You didn't have to say no. They knew. They _knew_."

"Sam—"

"I'm not finished Cap. My dad was killed when I was 7. You know that. My mom had to pick up extra shifts to make ends meet so she was gone a lot. I spent most of my time after school at the local youth center. The guy over it. He took to me real fast. I thought he was just being nice because my dad had just died. I was glad he was around though. He was nice. I liked talking to another guy. It was just me and my mom. He told me to stay after one day. Said he'd drive me home. He did. But he came in with me and gave me some alcohol. He said I was a man and that it was okay. I got a little tipsy and he took my pants off," he was breathing faster as he continued to talk "and he raped me. It didn't feel good. At all. But even if it had. He was still wrong. And just because you became erect doesn't mean you were asking for it or that your experience was any less than mines. He did that about 7 more times. I didn't fight any time. I never said no at any time. But I finally got so scared, I told my mom. He had a good reputation, but my dad did too. He got two years jail and two years probation. He should have gotten more. What those women did were wrong. Thor your dad was wrong too."

Everyone looked at Sam, grateful that he and Bruce were willing to share what happened to them in order to help Thor and Steve.

Sam was done.

"Our experiences are not the same Son of Wil. Yours was filled with violence and agony. Anyone who would force themselves upon a child deserves to meet the sword."

"Fourteen. My maid. I told my mom. She told my dad. He told the authorities. She went to prison. It was all done privately of course. I didn't get aroused. I did start drinking though."

Everyone just looked at Tony to finish. He had a glass of Scotch in his hand and downed it one gulp.

"She knew what she was doing was wrong. She tried to trick me. I told her I was just a kid. She said I was a child prodigy. Smart enough to make my own decisions."

He poured another glass. No one stopped him.

"But she's rotting in some prison and I'm out here saving the world. Something you said Thor. About sleeping with so many women. Believe me I get it, but it doesn't mean you aren't broken. It took Pepper to get me to see that. That's all I have to say. I got the rest out when my parents made me go to therapy."

He polished off his drink. Tony was done.

"Tony… I… it's not the _same_. I was _lucky_. You know how it is. I never would have gotten a girl otherwise. I was lucky." Steve was grasping at straws now and Thor looked lost.

"No you weren't." Natasha's voice was clinical. She was holding Clint's hand but nobody cared.

"I was 22. I think. The Red Room didn't keep time so I'm going off of guesses here. When I went with S.H.I.E.L.D. I still had a lot of my old life programmed into me. I didn't know I could say no. I didn't know I could question orders. And I didn't know some things were against the rules. Before S.H.I.E.L.D. I _always_ knew the rules. Knowing the rules kept you alive. Two higher ranking officers. Gave me orders to meet in an unmarked room. Some lame cover story about intel. On my 6th month there. The things is, I _knew_. I knew what was going to happen and I _still_ went. What I didn't know was that anyone would care, or that they made those orders up. I thought I was being punished. It was the only thing that had made sense to me since I had gotten there. I was being given too many chances. But I just knew they had finally caught up to the rules that I used to live by. So I went. _Happy_ that my I could get my punishment and finally be able to work again. And here's the thing. I could have fought back. I would have been successful too. But I didn't know any better and they read my file and they knew that. So if anybody here didn't fight back and could have, it's me. I finally told Clint. I was glad I was finally punished and was grateful that I would start getting missions now. Clint talked to me, Phil talked to me, and Nick talked to me. We got everything cleared up and those men wont be bothering anyone else."

"But Nat, you're…"

"If you say it's different because I'm female then you're invalidating everyone else's experience in here. And believe me when I say this. Theirs is just as valid. End of discussion."

Natasha was done. Clint picked up the torch.

"I was 17. Probably looked younger though. I had just run away from the circus after Barney… Anyways. I ran from the circus and had no job experience, no nice clothes, and no money. I needed to eat and the only skill I had was archery and I had left my bow and arrow at the circus. I walked down the wrong street and this guy stopped me. Middle aged. Nice suit. Nice car. He had money. I know what he wanted. Anyone with eyes could see I was underfed and homeless. He offered me a room for the night, food, and a few hundred dollars. I went with him and he did whatever he wanted. I didn't feel anything. I was hungry and that was that. It took Fury to explain to me that even though I took the money, he had power over me. I was a kid, he saw my vulnerabilities, and he exploited them. It's the same with you guys. You were kids, you had vulnerabilities, and they were exploited."

Clint was done. He was still holding Nat's hand.

The room was heavy and Steve and Thor had yet to say anything. Everyone was just waiting for the shoe to drop.

Steve started crying silently. Refusing to look anyone in the eye. Thor just had his head in his hands.

"I'm not a victim. I'm a warrior and…" Thor abandoned his thought "I do not understand. Why would Father let this happen if it were so bad? I tried to get out of it before it happened but he _assured_ me I would like it. He wasn't wrong?"

"Society. He probably truly believes it's okay. There a lot of men and women on earth who would agree with him unfortunately. It doesn't make you any less a warrior, or you any less a soldier Steve." This came from Sam who had moved next to Steve to comfort him.

"Loki didn't like it either." Thor's eyes turned red and his voice was huskier. If he was ever going to cry now was the time. It was shocking Thor was always so brash.

"I told him I didn't want to… to… he didn't care enough. Something always felt off about it but, I don't know."

The stayed up the rest of the night comforting each other and sharing tips to help each other out. Steve and Thor weren't completely healed, but the Band-Aid had been ripped off. At least now the healing could begin.

This story is complete but I MIGHT go into more detail with each character in separate chapters or have a chapter where Thor confronts Odin.


	2. Bruce

I was cursed even before I was born. My grandfather, Bruce Banner I, was an abusive alcoholic. He would beat my grandma, dad, and aunts so bad that they would stay away from the house every other weekend. No one ever told me where it was they went. And this is the man I was named after.

It was another one of my dad's mind games. My first name is Robert, but he made sure no one ever called me that. He insisted my mother call me Bruce. They used to whisper-argue about it before things got too bad at home. He would just tell her that he had already let her name me Robert after her dad. That he deserved _something_ , and wasn't marriage all about compromise? Wasn't it her idea to have a child in the first place when he was against it from the beginning?

I was conditioned to answer to Bruce. Robert just doesn't fit me now. By associating me with the man he hated most in the world, he was setting me apart from him and my mother. If my father learned anything from his father, it was how to be a terrible parent, how to deceive a woman long enough to get her to marry him, and how to isolate his child so much that he became socially awkward and prone to antisocial behavior.

After my father killed my mother I was sent to live with my aunt Susan and uncle Drake. They were both nice people. Uncle Drake was a bit distant, but that was mostly because he had decided to never have children of his own. My presence was unexpected. It was okay though because I was already 14. I didn't need to be potty trained, taught to read, or even how to take care of myself. I was practically raising myself by that point anyway. Dad had long since made my mother stay away from me. We tried to see each other but he kept a close eye on us.

He thought _I_ was a monster because he was, and he thought _he_ was a monster because his dad was.

I could almost understand how once I was born he started to hate me. _Almost_.

My aunt Susan was a life saver. I didn't think either of my aunt's would be willing to take me in considering all the baggage I came with, but she stepped up to the plate. She was the one who instilled in me a desire to help those less fortunate. She called Child Protective Services and got everything squared away. She was able to take me after my dad got arrested and hospitalized.

My life wasn't smooth sailing but I wasn't dreading going home anymore. Home was safe now. I looked forward to it. It was school that was hell.

I transferred to Eastwood Academy in the middle of the first semester. Cliques were already formed and nobody was looking to make friends. I know my aunt Susan was hopeful that I would fit in better, but I wasn't up to the challenge.

I had only lost my mother a few months before and my dad was a basket case. I didn't want to be around people and I wasn't inclined to change that. I guess a part of me wanted someone to talk to, but the rest of me wanted to lose myself in science. It was the only thing I was good at. I was labeled a freak pretty early on. Students would try to talk to me and I would opt to ignore them.

I knew it would set me apart from the others. No one would want to associated with me, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I was depressed and didn't know how to channel my anger.

This was a problem for me. I was never allowed to truly be angry about anything that had happened in my life. I was always so consumed with tiptoeing around my dad and his fickle emotions.

For the most part my day was structured. I woke up, went to school, breezed through my homework, helped my aunt with dinner, ate, went to bed, and repeat. It wasn't until I finally realized that I didn't have to hide being smart anymore that I truly became a target at school.

I asked my counselor to change my classes to advanced levels. Because the school was known for its prestigious curriculum, I had to test into the classes. The test might as well have been a joke.

It consisted of slightly advanced physics, chemistry, and biology concepts. The math was strictly calculus and the English was mostly on grammar. I finished the test in 46 minutes and 38 seconds. The proctor thought I was joking. I assured her I was not.

I got a perfect score.

I was moved into accelerated classes the next day.

My new classmates didn't have much of a problem with me. I was quiet and did my work. I was just like them in that aspect. It was outside of these classes that I ran into bullies. Four of them to be exact. I had them for P.E., lunch, and study hall. The school broke the students up by level and last name.

Arthur Blithe, Daniel Booth, Robert Barron, and Joseph Bell.

They were the banes of my existence. The taunting I could handle. It was the physical nature of their bullying that bothered me. For whatever reason, I was having a hard time controlling my temper. It had never been a problem before. I never got cross with adults either. It was just with my peers that I ever lashed out at.

School went like this for weeks. They would destroy my property, knock over my tray, and trip me up during P.E. I would get so angry that I would swing at one of them and then they would all start in on me. These four guys were decently popular, more popular than me at least. I was at the bottom of the barrel.

They turned more students against me. Those who would sit by idly before and ignore me were now joining in on the name calling and "silly" pranks. The teachers were never around. Lunch, P.E., and Study Hall were basically self taught courses. They expected the upper-crest children to behave themselves in a fitting manner. Good for them. Not so good for me.

Several times I went home with a bruise on my arm, a ripped sleeve, dirty jeans, or even a busted lip. They tried to keep the visible damage to a minimum. I don't know when I became everyone's favorite target but I was getting sick of it.

I threw myself into my studied. When I got from school I would work on separate science projects. Particularly in chemistry and physics. I would use my dad's old clearance badge numbers to get access to college level books and do my own studies. It kept me preoccupied.

Even though school was a drag I managed to avoid a lot of conflict. I had my aunt Susan start making me lunch under the guise that I wanted to eat healthier. I would just eat lunch in one of the empty lab rooms. The school had several science classrooms. Study Hall was easily avoidable as well. There was a teacher there at the beginning to sign everyone in and then she left. I would just leave after her and sit in the bathroom. That only left P.E. Unfortunately, there wasn't much I could do there. If we were in the gym that day I was safe, but if we went outside I was on my own.

The boys in the locker room would do humiliating things like hide my deodorant so I would be smelly during the rest of school. I quickly learned to buy the mini-deodorant's and keep it in my pocket. They would take my shirts and wet them in the showers leaving me with the musty shirt I had just sweated in. I started keeping shirts in my normal locker and backpack.

I was miserable for a class period, but I survived.

My aunt and uncle became aware that I wasn't exactly fitting in. So they made me sign up for science club. It was better than I thought, but it took time away from real science. At the very least, there were people who would say hi to me now. I was still a loser, but not as much as before. It didn't stop the bullying.

Convinced that I was interacting with my peers, my aunt and uncle got off my case about making friends. They were content that I was making good grades, and for the most part not getting into any trouble. I could tell they were still worried though.

It was nice to be worried over even if I didn't really need it. They were more like parents than my actual parents. My dad because he was horrible, and my mom because she was hardly ever allowed to.

Overall, I was happy with the move.

Then things started getting worse for me.

My aunt got a promotion, but it required her to work longer hours. Not a whole lot of hours more but enough to notice the difference. She was ecstatic and my uncle was happy for her. For the most part we avoided each other when my aunt wasn't there. We weren't as awkward as we were with one another as we were when I had just moved in, but we never had a whole lot to say to each other either.

He would ask me about my day and I would ask about his. Then we went on to do our own separate things.

It went like this for maybe 17 days. On day 17 my uncle Drake came into my room and sat on my bed. It was a little weird, but nothing screamed run. We actually had a nice conversation. He was asking about my physics theorem's and actually giving useful feedback. I let my guard down.

I don't know when it happened but he was standing behind me and basically breathing down my neck. I was a little tense but he was still just talking about science. I eventually relaxed when he didn't do anything else. He was only slightly rubbing one of my shoulders. Before he left he kissed my forehead. That was weird, but I put it out of my mind. Maybe he was just opening up to me.

School was the same. My aunt still made time to make me lunch and she always wanted to know about my day. We would talk every night for a few minutes before I had to get ready for bed.

The random touched from my uncle became more frequent, but they weren't inappropriate. They just felt kind of strange. I chalked it up to the fact that I was never touchy-feely to begin with. The only time men had ever put their hands on me in my life was when they were causing pain. Rationally I was just projecting this onto my uncle.

Even though I was ahead of my peers, my classwork picked up closer to the end of semester finals.

There were a lot of projects, presentations, and last minute details I needed to add on papers. My schedule was so busy that I had to put off my individual studies. I was a bit bummed, but it wasn't like I wouldn't have the winter break to make up lost time.

One day I was particularly tired. I was just laying on my bed on my back with my eyes closed. I heard the door open and correctly assumed it was my uncle. I was used to his visits by now.

He would either sit at my desk or sit on the edge of the bed and talk to me for a little while. Then he would put his hand on my knee or shoulders and kiss my forehead before leaving. I had begun to look forward to his company. He was the only person who seemed interested in my science. I know it sounds lame, but I was starving for attention and shying away from it at the same time.

My dad really did a number on me.

We had been talking like normal when the conversation took a turn for the worse. He was gently rubbing my leg and I still had my eyes closed. His voice was always soothing. He never raised his voice like my dad did.

"You're a good kid Bruce. You're nothing like your dad. I know you fear you'll grow up like him one day. Your aunt sometimes still thinks like that. It's why we decided to never have kids. Then you came along. She's finally realizing she's not a bad person destined to be like her old man. I have to thank you for that."

I was getting a little chocked up. Emotional conversations like these always choke me up. The thought that people appreciated me and didn't think I was a monster was overwhelming. I was just used to teachers pitying me when they used to see me covered in poorly hidden bruises. In those days, you minded your own business. How a man ran his family was none of your concern.

He was still rubbing my leg, only this time more earnestly. I was startled into opening my eyes when his free hand grazed my crotch.

"Uncle?"

I was really confused and a little terrified. If had of said it was an accident or just laughed it off and left, I would have gone along with it. But he didn't.

"Bruce. You're a good kid and I want to make some things up to you. Just keep your eyes closed and relax."

"I…I…" I was honestly too spooked to form a coherent response.

"It'll feel good. It won't hurt at all. Just keep your eyes closed okay?"

I nodded my head. I wasn't sure what else I should have been doing.

His hands stopped rubbing my leg and unzipped my pants. He pulled them below my knees and did the same to my boxers. I could feel the blood rushing to my face. I had never touched myself before. I know a lot of the guys my age did, but I just never felt the urge.

His hand lightly caressed me. I still hadn't moved. He was talking the entire time.

"Just focus on the feeling. You're a good kid Bruce. You deserve this. I want to make you feel nice okay?"

Even though my eyes were closed they were burning. My throat was restricting too.

He just kept rubbing me and talking softly.

"I know you don't have any friends and you're missing your mom. I know you're angry at your dad, but none of that matters right now."

I was putty in his hands. He moved and my body reacted. I was starting to sweat a little. I knew this was wrong, but I was kind of hoping he would go a little faster. That his touch would get a little firmer. My breathing was picking up and it was getting harder to keep my eyes closed.

"Uncle…"

"Shhh Bruce. Be quiet and feel."

I started to open my eyes.

"Keep them closed kid. It'll make it easier."

I think he meant for him. It felt good and bad all at the same time. My body had started reacting to his touch and small moans would escape my mouth.

"That's good Bruce. Come undone. It's just you and me. Just breathe. Your first time should feel good. I'm going to make sure of it."

I was panting by now and my body was lifting off of the bed. I was groaning a little bit. But I still kept my eyes closed.

"I knew you would like this Bruce. You're a smart kid. You know I don't want to hurt you. I just want to make you feel good okay? This does feel good right?"

"Yes."

I was wishing he would stop talking and make the pressure go away. It didn't matter in the end because I finished all over his hand. I was mortified.

"It's okay Bruce. You did good alright? That was something special just for you."

He reached and touched my flaccid flesh again and I hissed. It was too sensitive.

"That's how you know it was good."

He was chuckling like I he was humoring a toddler who thought they could brush their teeth by themselves.

I can't pinpoint why, but I started crying. My shoulders were shaking and I wouldn't open my eyes.

"It ok Bruce. I know you're confused but it's fine now. You did good. I didn't hurt you right?"

"No."

"Good. Then you just have to make yourself calm down okay son?"

He was being so nice that I decided to apologize. Maybe I was overreacting.

"Sorry. I just… first time. It didn't hurt, but…"

I stopped there. He just smiled indulgingly at me.

"I get it. Here let me help you clean up."

I thought he was get a towel or something but he bent his head and I could feel his breath on me. I embarrassingly started to get a little hard.

"Oh. To be young. Ever had a blow job?"

I nearly fainted and I must have looked it because he laughed at me.

"It's okay we'll take it slow."

Before I could push his head away he took me into his mouth. The whole thing. I was only 14 so I wasn't as developed, but I was very easily aroused.

I wanted this to stop. It felt good, but I started thinking of aunt Susan. She would hate me. She would finally see that dad was right. That I was a little monster who didn't deserve my own mother's love.

"Please no."

He kept going. I don't know if he knew what he was doing or if it was just because I was so sensitive but I came fast. He swallowed it. My entire body flushed red when I heard him gulp. He just met my eyes and smiled.

"It was good. You were good. You liked it right?"

I didn't know how to answer that. It was all too much.

"It's okay Bruce. It's a lot to take in. I just want to say thank you for helping me and your aunt okay?"

I nodded dumbly.

When he left I crawled under the covers and tried to sleep. I didn't want to think of anything. When my aunt came home she popped her head in but I pretended to be asleep. I couldn't face her.

Instead, I lied in bed and cried to myself. I had taken sex education and read enough books to know that what had happened was rape. What nobody said was how good it could feel. How it could be your uncle. How you could be conflicted because you kind of wanted it? I wouldn't completely mind it if he did it again.

I was sick. I knew something was wrong with me. How could I have enjoyed it?

The next morning was awkward. I didn't say much to my aunt and I couldn't make eye contact with my uncle. He merely told me to have a great day and I went to school.

It amazed me how everything seemed so normal. Nobody was looking at me in any particular way. They just looked past me as usual.

It was during P.E. that things hit the fan. Those four bastards cornered me and tried to get me to give them the answers to their homework. I could have easily done it, but I wasn't going to. They forever make me do their work if I did. I hit Blithe in the nose and we got into an all out brawl. I don't think we would have been caught if there wasn't an audience gaining. A teacher walked by and saw what was happening. I got Blithe, but they all got me.

I was sent home. My uncle came to get me.

I thought it would be more awkward, but he only talked about the fight. How I should try to ignore them and that they just wanted attention.

He dropped me off at home and went to work.

My aunt called on her lunch break. I was still nervous to talk to her. She just sounded disappointed that I had resulted to violence. I think she was thinking of my dad. Or hers.

When 5:37 hit uncle Drake was home like clockwork. I used to look forward to it, but not I was sort of scared.

I didn't think he would hurt me, but who knows?

He didn't.

He came into my room, talked to me about science, rubbed my shoulders, kissed my head and left.

Maybe he was really trying to thank me the day before?

This went on until school let out for the break. I, for the most part, put everything behind me. I had aced my classes, started talking to my aunt more, and even picked back up my personal studies.

I was totally unprepared for my uncle to come in and push me on the bed. I had stood up when I heard the door open. He locked the door this time.

He didn't push me hard, he just pushed me enough to fall onto my back.

"It's okay Bruce. I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to try something different this time. You liked what I did the first time right?"

"I don't think we should."

"I know you might feel a little confused right now and that's natural. You're still growing into your sexuality and all. I just want you to feel how much I care about you. I don't want you to have any doubt that you are wanted ok sport?"

For a few seconds I believed his crap, but I knew it was wrong. Uncles shouldn't sneak into your rooms and do things he should be doing with his wife.

"I don't want to."

"Bruce just relax."

He was putting his weight on me to keep me down.

"I'm just going to try something and then we can stop okay? I don't want you to be scared or anything. I think you can take it."

I just wanted him to leave.

"Ok."

I barely whispered it. I figures if I let him have what he wanted he would leave me alone. He pulled a small bottle out of his pocket.

"It'll make it easier to go in."

My eyes must have gotten big because he was quick to reassure me.

"It might sting, but I know how to make it feel really good for you. Trust me on this."

He wasn't really giving me a choice. He lifted off of me and rolled me over. He tugged my pants down and his.

"We'll start slow."

He rubbed me until I got hard. When he stopped I was a little miffed because I was starting to feel good. On the other hand, I was nervous because I knew what he was working his way to.

I don't know when it happened, but he was hard too. He pressed it against me. It felt weird. He opened to bottle and put some on his fingers. He spent 19 ½ minutes stretching me with his fingers.

Apparently I was really tight and I wasn't relaxing enough. HE was peppering my back with kisses and running his fingers through my hair. It got my mind off of the stinging pain for a little bit.

I was completely blindsided when he started putting himself in me. It hurt. Like hell.

I was gasping for air. Instead of stopping, he reached under me and fondled me. It made the pain bearable but it was still there.

"Shit Bruce, you've got a vice grip. Relax. I'll find your spot and make you pop."

I didn't know what he was talking about and I didn't care. I just wanted this to be over.

For a few minutes he was just pumping into me and telling me that it was going to get better.

He was sort of right. He found my prostate and hit it until I made a mess on the bed. HE kept going until he swelled and spilled inside of me.

It felt strange.

He cleaned me up.

I thought he would leave, but he held me while I cried.

"It's fine now Bruce. I know there was a little pain, but it went away right?"

He wasn't really expecting an answer and I didn't give him one. My ass was on fire.

"Cry it out son. I know. You're probably feeling overwhelmed right now. Just know that I love you. I want you to enjoy this with me."

I was sobbing into the bed and he just kept holding me. I couldn't move away from him.

I cried and cried. I made myself sleep because I came to the realization that he wasn't going to leave until I did.

I don't know how, but I managed to sleep. It was fitful, but it was sleep.

The next day I had to myself. I was out of school, but my aunt and uncle still had work.

My aunt came home for lunch that day. I was moving slow and it kind of hurt to sit for too long.

"You okay Bruce?"

I was quick to assure that yes, everything was fine.

"Drake said you were feeling a little warm yesterday."

"Probably just from stress from finals."

"Oh? How do you think you did?"

"Well. I just had a lot on my plate."

I didn't talk much after that. I was content just listening.

The more I thought about my uncle the sicker I became. As soon as my aunt left back for work I ran to the nearest bin and threw up mu lunch. I didn't want my uncle's attention anymore.

It was messing with my head and making me lose sleep. On top of that I was sore and having weird dreams.

I made up my mind that I would tell him to stop.

I told him. He didn't take it well.

"Do you want to go to a home Bruce? Wasn't I kind to you? Didn't you say it felt good?"

"I know. I know what I said, but what we did was bad."

He grabbed my face.

"No Bruce. I know you're scared -"

"Please uncle Drake. I just don't want to do this anymore."

"Do you have any idea of how selfish you're being. I spend time with you. No one else does. I took you in when I could have let you go to a boy's home. I took you into my _home_. Look at me. I care about you Bruce. Do you believe that?"

I didn't know what to believe but I nodded my head anyway so that he would let go of my face.

"Good. It's important that you know that. Now lay down."

"Please— "

HE cut me off. Pushed me down and had his way with me. It was less gentle this time. I cried the whole way through. He didn't stay afterward. But before he left he threatened me.

"I know you're not a bad kid Bruce. I know you just want to do the right thing. I can admire that. But if you tell your aunt she won't even believe you. And if she does, you still go to a boy's home. I'm not trying to scare you. I'm just letting you know your options."

I cleaned myself up after he left and slept on the floor. The bed wasn't comfortable anymore.

He came to me 4 more times in the span of a month. School had started back and I was glad for the distraction.

My uncle was gentle again. I hated it more. When I was supposed to be sleeping I would spend my time thinking about how my dad never did this to me. How I would prefer the beatings to this. I didn't want to do this, but he wasn't going to stop.

And he knew I wasn't going to tell. I love my aunt and I didn't want to be sent away. She was my last chance.

It was her who ended up finding us. He was grunting behind me. I was trying to pretend to be somewhere else while he hit every spot he knew I responded to. She opened the door and screamed so loud I thought I had bust my ear drums.

She pulled him off of me while he tried to make excuses.

She threatened to call the cops and he took off.

She apologized to me. For not knowing. For not seeing. For being too busy.

I only cried more. I wanted to apologize for not telling. For allowing it the first time. For enjoying it. But I said nothing I just cried. The medics were called and two detectives met me at the hospital.

I gave a statement and they left. When it was just me and my aunt I confessed. About how I said ok the first time. How I liked it at some points. How I knew what I was doing was bad but that I didn't know what else to do.

She told me it was ok. Not to feel bad about "responding to his advances." It was natural. He was the bad guy. Not me.

I wanted so desperately to believe her, but a part of me couldn't. She didn't let me out of her sight for days after that. She would randomly apologize to me and stop me before I could do the same. She really didn't blame me.

She was a good person. I didn't deserve her. I deserve the abusive fathers, the name-calling peers, the handsy uncles, and the low self-esteem. I deserved those things.

Not the sympathy, the empathy, the understanding, and the love she showered me with.

It took me years to come to terms with my dad, yet alone my uncle.

They divorced.

I blamed myself. She blamed him.

Hearing Steve and Thor try to battle what they feel is _hard_. I know they are where I was. When I was 27 I promised myself that I would one day be the person I needed as a kid. I wanted to be the person my mom wasn't allowed to be; the person my aunt _was_ allowed to be.

It was hard telling them about my uncle and they didn't really get the point but I'm hopeful that they will. It needed to be said.

It just takes time.

I made a list of things for JARVIS to send to the team to help them through the night.

1\. Sleep with a night light. It's okay. Use it when you need it. It's not embarrassing and no one will judge you for it (the Other Guy will make sure of that)

2\. White noise. It distracts you from your thoughts long enough to get some sleep or at least for a nap and

3\. Cartoon movies. They aren't real but they always end happily. You have enough things to worry about, give yourself a break


	3. Sam

***Sam was 9 when his dad was murdered. Not 7. Sorry for the mix-up. So he is 9 in this story.**

 **Same WARNINGS apply.**

 **I do not own MARVEL.**

 ****Sorry for taking so long to update. This story was really hard to write because Sam is only 9 in it and it was hard to write it from such a young perspective****

 **Sam**

I was 9 when my dad was killed. He got in between a heated fight and one of the guy's blades slipped and stabbed him. The wound was fatal. He died right there. Right in my arms. The heaviness of his head weighed me down so much that it made my knees press into the concrete. Even though I saw him lose his life, I didn't react until the day after the funeral when he didn't wake me up for church.

It took my mother 45 minutes to calm me down.

Two guys from different gangs that wouldn't have been able to pick my dad out of a room full of strangers decided that their beef was more important than his life.

We live in a pretty rough neighborhood.

Dad was a minister and we lived where we worshipped. He and my mom refused to move us out of Harlem.

Third grade _itself_ was a blur. I should have been worried about coke bottle volcanoes, milk carton telescopes, and memorizing the acronym for the 9 planets. Instead, I was worried about my mom, grieving about my dad, and afraid to go to the youth center.

My mom was the lady who brought people their medicine and meals at the local hospital. After my dad died, things were tighter than normal. She picked up extra shifts to get us by. Feeding me and paying the bills were her first priority.

Mom didn't feel comfortable with me being at the youth center after school all the time because there were way too many kids to keep an eye on everyone.

It used to just be a Boys Club. There was no Boys & Girls Club back then so it was still predominantly male.

But because there was no one to watch me and mom couldn't afford child care, that's where I went. It was safer then walking home by myself and staying there for hours without adult supervision.

That just left me, Gideon, and Sarah. Gideon and Sarah were my pet finches and a gift from my dad. I liked spending time with them when I was feeling particularly down.

I was allowed to miss school for two weeks before I _had_ to go back.

School made me _more_ miserable. I used to love it. I was popular. As popular as a 3rd grader could be. I was the funny kid that everyone wanted to play with at recess. I held the title for swinging the highest and jumping the farthest.

School used to be _fun_ , but all I got now was pity stares and awkward conversation. My dad was a pillar in the community. Everyone in my class knew him either from when he would pick me up after school, or if they went to church with us.

It was weird, but they missed him too. He was that good of a man.

After school I would go to the Carver-Washington Youth Center. It wasn't a bad place to be, but after 8 hours of class I was tired of _people_. I just had to stay there for 2 more hours before going home. My mom didn't want me to spend _all_ of my time at home alone. She usually got in at 8. I would make it home at 6:00 and my neighbor Mrs. Carol would heat up the dinner my mom made for me. Most parents got off at 6 and would pick up their children. It used to be like that for me too.

Mr. Jonathan Evans was the new guy. He practically took over the center after Mr. Stiles retired and moved back to Texas to live with his daughter and her family. Because he was younger, he was good with the kids of all ages. He was also quicker on his feet and stopped a lot of fights before they even got started. He had a 4-strike rule.

Get in trouble 4 times and you're out for good. It really snuffed out a lot of problems. The center was the only place that gave you free snacks, helped you with homework, _and_ let you play until your parents came to pick you up. It was an extended recess.

Only kids 10 and under were separated into "classes". It was to keep a better eye on us. All of the other guys had free time to do as they liked as long as they didn't break any of the rules.

It just so happened that the guy who watched the 8 to 10-year-old class was a college student who missed some days because of his part-time job or one of his night classes. On those days, Mr. Evans would watch our class.

He was okay. He talked to me when I was lonely and would leave me alone on the days I didn't want to be near anyone. He made me feel better.

He would listen when I would talk about my dad, which wasn't very often.

He would sit next to me in the restroom when I would cry.

He would bring me little snacks to cheer me up if I was having a really bad week. He was like a surrogate father. I grew to like his company. He even got me talking a little bit more.

My mom noticed and was glad that I was starting to heal. A few weeks went by with no problems other than a few scattered nightmares that my mother held me through.

It was one particular day in October when Mr. Evans offered to take me home. It was around the time it would get darker sooner outside.

He said he wanted to make sure I made it home in one piece. We did not live in the safest neighborhood.

I would love to say that I felt like something was off but I didn't.

We got into his car and he let me ride in the front seat.

I remember being really excited about that. My mom and dad never used to let me ride in the front. Not even if only _one_ of them were in the car and the passenger seat was available.

"You okay there son?"

I gave him my mega watt smile.

"Mhmm. It's just I never get to ride in the front. Everything looks so different up here. Can I turn on the radio please?"

Adults were always more likely to say yes if you said please.

"Sure thing."

I didn't find anything that I liked in particular, but that was fine. I gave Mr. Evans directions and when we pulled up to my house I made to get out.

He grabbed my shoulder and told me he was going to come up with me.

"I'm not sure about that. I'm not supposed to let anyone in. My mom won't be home until 8."

"Hey, it'll be fine. Your mom knows me. You can even show me Gideon and Sarah."

That cleared up any hesitation I had about letting him in really quick. Over the past two months I'd known him, I had told him a lot about my pet finches. Now he would finally get to see them.

"Then let's hurry up."

I heard him laughing behind me while I ran to the front door. I thought I saw Mrs. Carol move her blinds out of the corner of my eye. A few seconds later I was proved right.

She walked down her steps and stopped in front of me.

"Who's your friend here Sammy?"

That was a weird question. Everyone knew everyone in our neighborhood, and I _know_ most of the ladies knew single Mr. Evans.

"This is Mr. Evans. You and mama talk about him at church remember?"

She looked a little embarrassed while Mr. Evans just chuckled and ruffled my hair. I had no clue what was so funny.

"Kids."

Mrs. Carol still looked embarrassed but graciously accepted the out that was provided her.

"Yeah. Aren't they something else?"

I interrupted before they could get a conversation going. Grown ups could talk forever.

"I'm going to show him Gideon and Sarah."

She already knew about my finches. When she would heat dinner up for me I would be feeding them seeds.

She looked a little unsure but Mr. Evans turned on the charm.

"No need to worry. I'm just going to see him get settled in and help with his homework. I'll call his mom to make sure it's okay."

She still seemed hesitant.

I was just shocked. Mr. Evans had just lied and he was always going on about how honesty was important. I always finished my homework at the center. I didn't have any left for him to help me with, but I didn't say anything because I wanted to show him my finches.

"Well alright. But I'll call his mom to ask if it's okay."

"Deal."

His smile was a little tighter, but if you weren't looking you would have missed it.

When we got inside I made a beeline for my room. I brought my finches out and started telling him everything I could remember about them. A few minutes in and Mrs. Carol came over to tell me that my mom said it was okay for Mr. Evans to stay for a few minutes and to call her or Mrs. Carol if I needed anything.

I said okay and she left.

Sarah and Gideon got bored of me so I put them back into their cage in my room. I had no homework to do so we watched television instead. Reruns of The Wonder Years was playing.

I noticed Mr. Evans kept watching the door. I got a little sad at the thought that he was ready to leave so soon. He had only been here 15 minutes and I had already talked him to death.

"I'm sorry if I'm boring you Mr. Evans. You don't have to stay. Mrs. Carol can check up on me."

He moved closer to me.

"Hey kid it's fine. I'm certainly not bored."

"Then why do you keep looking at the door?"

Before he could answer, Mrs. Carol was knocking on the door again.

"I hate to ask this of you, but do you think you could watch little Sammy for a bit longer? My sister called and her and her children's car got stuck so I need to pick them up and take them home. It won't take more than an hour. I'll be back before 8 so no worries there."

Her eyes were pleading with him and he gave her a really big smile.

"Of course it's no problem. It's Friday anyways. We'll be fine."

Mrs. Carol left.

"Cool! You can stay longer."

He gave a deep throaty chuckle.

For the most part we watched T.V. with a little commentary. Mom had made beef cutlets and double cheese scalloped potatoes and after I ate we went back to sit on the living room sofa.

He was sitting really close to me. When he put his hand around my shoulder and pulled me over to him, my stomach gave a little nervous flutter.

"You're a good kid Sam. One of the best."

For some reason it was hard to find my voice.

"Thanks."

"I have something for you."

I was surprised.

"What is it?"

He laughed a little and took out a travel sized bottle of Jack Daniels.

"You want some?"

I could feel my eyes get big.

"But that's for grown ups."

"Well you're mature. I think you can handle it."

I got the feeling that he would be disappointed if I said no.

I took a tentative sip and the stuff was awful. I choked.

He just smirked.

"This'll put some hair on your chest. Why don't you get a little more? It's not too much for you is it?"

I was quick to shake my head no. I could take it.

I took a few more sips. It wasn't a lot, but I stopped when my head felt a little swoozy.

"I feel weird."

"It's okay. It'll go away in a little bit. It happens to everyone."

I felt better that he said that. I was feeling foolish.

He pulled me into his lap. He had never done that before.

I just looked at him and raised a brow. Or I tried to raise a brow.

He kissed me. On the mouth.

I pulled away but he held me tighter.

"Hey it's cool Sam. It's okay. This is okay. Don't panic on me man." He was chuckling like he was humoring a child who had asked a dumb question.

"Why did you kiss me?"

He looked hurt.

"I thought we were friends."

"We are but…"

"Hey. It's okay for friends to kiss. You can keep a secret right? Friends always keep secrets and I know I can trust you to keep one can't I? You're trustworthy like your dad right?"

I tried to be like my dad but I was confused. I never kissed any of my friends, but we did have secrets. I never told anyone that Donnie and Ervin were the ones who put snails in Kathy's lunchbox, or that Emily took more than one juice at lunch, or even when Timmy wet himself and said he wasted milk on his jeans.

I had a lot of secrets with friends and Mr. Evans was cool. He wouldn't do anything to get me in trouble. I just didn't like being kissed and I told him so.

"I keep secrets real good. I just don't want to kiss anymore. Is that okay?"

He just gave me a humoring smile.

"We don't have to do that anymore, but can I do something that I know you'll like? No kissing I promise."

I thought about it and just shrugged my shoulders.

"Great. Just relax against me."

I was flush against his stomach. He wrapped one hand in front of me and lifted up my shirt a little. I was really confused.

When he put his hand on my zipper I began to get a little nervous. He pulled down and stuck his hand in my underwear.

"This'll feel really good for you Sam. Trust me?"

I just nodded my head unsure of what was happening. He said I would feel good, but so far my gut was just tight.

His hand stopped when he touched my penis. He gave it a few experimental tugs and I tried to get up.

"Just relax Sam. Relax and it'll feel real good for you okay?"

He pulled me back to him and started tugging again. I could feel his frustrated breath on the back of my head. Whatever he was hoping to happen wasn't happening.

"It's fine. We can try something else."

He sounded a little upset, but he was smiling anyways. As long as he stopped this I would try something else.

He sat me next to him and I was glad to be off his lap.

I was not so glad when he unzipped his own hands and started tugging on himself. His penis stood up.

His breath was hitching.

"This is what yours was supposed to do. But we can do something else. Come here."

I didn't move.

He moved me himself. Picked me right up with his right arm and pulled my jeans down with his left.

I was frozen in fear and crying.

"Be quiet."

He tried to put his penis _in_ me. Nothing ever went _up_ that way. It only made me cry harder.

It burned. A lot. Like when I raced Robbie and skinned my knee on the pavement. It stung and I wanted him to stop but I didn't know what to do.

This had never happened before and I was lost.

It wasn't going in much and I think he made me bleed.

He finally stopped and I felt something wet against me.

He picked me up crying and took me to the bathroom at the end of the hall. He wet a dark hand towel and wiped us both clean.

He then made me brush my teeth and then eat gum to get rid of the stench of alcohol.

He must have tried to talk to me but I wouldn't answer him. I wanted him to leave. I should have never let him in.

Because I wasn't talking he carried me into my room and changed my clothes all the while trying to get me to calm down.

"Sam it's over now. You're fine. You really helped me out in there. This doesn't change things between us okay. We're still friends right?"

I stuck my head under the covers and prayed that he would just leave. He didn't.

I felt his hand pulling on the cover.

He must have got tired of playing and yanked it from over me.

"Listen here Sam. If you tell anybody you'll get in trouble and I don't want that to happen. I know you try to be good. I know I don't have to worry about you keeping our secret. Isn't that right Sam?"

I realized he was right. Mom would be mad at me. This wouldn't have happened if I hadn't wanted to show him Gideon and Sarah.

I nodded my head.

He looked relieved.

He went into the living room to wait for Mrs. Carol. She came and he left. She stuck her head into the door to check up on me.

"You good kiddo?"

"Yes ma'am."

My voice was a little hoarse from crying.

"You sound exhausted. You must have had a lot of fun with Mr. Evans. I'm going to let you sleep."

She cut the light back off and stayed until my mom came home. When she came into my room I pretended to be asleep. She kissed my forehead and told me she loved me.

/

It was 2 days before I had to see Mr. Evans again. The weekend went by even more fast than it usually did. I wanted to run home, but Carl would be teaching the class. I thought I could avoid Mr. Evans.

I was so terribly wrong.

He cornered me during free play and asked me to help him do inventory in the storage room.

Normally I would have been ecstatic, but I didn't want to be around him.

He looked so normal. He was still smiling, telling jokes, encouraging the kids, and running the center.

I couldn't sleep, my food was bland, and I was always anxious. I could feel people looking at me differently.

He pushed me in before him and closed the door behind us.

Bending his knees, he crouched in front of me.

"I knew I could count on you to keep a secret."

I just looked at him.

"You don't look so good." He stuck out a hand to put on my shoulder but I deflected it.

"I'm fine."

You could barely hear me.

"Ookay. Hey before I forget, I got you something."

He pulled out a miniature swing.

"It's for Gideon and Sarah. They'll love it. I remember you saying you wanted to build one with your dad."

I didn't want it so I tried to give it back.

"No you keep it. It's a present. For doing so good this past weekend. I know it must have confused you, but it's nothing to worry about okay? Special friends do that with each other. It just means you're mature and can handle it. You're mature right?"

"I guess so."

"Exactly. So keep the swing alright?"

I just nodded my head. He pulled me into a hug and I started crying for no reason I could name.

"Shh. Shh. It's okay. It'll be fine. Good boy. Take a deep breath. I didn't mean to hurt you. Shh."

I eventually stopped crying and we actually took inventory.

I thought things would go back to normal. He hadn't did _that_ again. Not until three weeks before Christmas.

He cornered me after the Christmas party. He pulled me into his office and said he had a present for me.

I didn't like being around him anymore and I knew he knew it. I used to seek him out sometimes, but now he has to come find me.

"Sit down."

"I want to stand up."

He looked a little peeved at that.

"Sit down Sam."

He used his no nonsense voice and I sat down. The door was behind me.

He pulled out a long rectangular box wrapped up in purple and silver paper. He got me a Nintendo. I wanted to be happy, but I knew what was coming. He was going to get weird again.

I could always feel when he was staring at me. I did my best to ignore him. Whenever I had to be at the center I made sure to play with whoever wanted to play with me. People thought I had moved on from my dad, but I was missing him now more than ever.

If I had my dad, I would have never cried to Mr. Evans or need him to comfort me. I would have had my dad for that and my mom would be at home waiting for me.

The worst part is that there's no one to tell. I am truly alone.

"Don't you like it?"

I had to think fast.

"I don't think my mom will want to take a gift that costs so much."

"Don't worry about that. I'll talk to her about it."

That's what I didn't want.

He stood up and walked over to the door. I heard the lock click into place. I slumped over. He took my face into his hands and made me look into his eyes.

"You're really pretty you know that?"

"That's for girls."

He just smiled at me.

"With those long wispy eyelashes and warm chocolate eyes. You could almost pass for a girl. My little girl. Do you like that?"

I stiffened at that. He was smelling my hair.

"I'm not a girl."

He shook me.

"Don't ruin this for me Sam. You were so good last time. Just don't talk okay? Be good."

Why wouldn't he just let me leave?

He stepped back and pulled his penis out. I tried to look away again, but he jerked me out of the chair until I was standing in front of him.

"I need you to do something for me princess."

"I'm not-"

He tightened his grip on my arm.

"Okay."

"Good. Give me your hand."

I put my hand in his and he put it on him.

"Do what I do."

He wrapped his hand around mine and moved it up and down really slow. It started to grow and thicken under my hand. He grabbed my other hand and made me use both to touch him.

"Keep that pace."

I did.

Touching him wasn't as bad as the last time.

He started gritting his teeth and pushing his hips forward. My arms were getting tired and I was slowing down.

"Come on princess. Don't stop. Pick up the pace."

He finished with a loud groan and some white stuff splashed onto my face.

I kept rubbing until he made me stop. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped my face.

"You make a good girl Sam. I can do that to you too."

The door knocked saving me from coming up with a way to escape this hell.

It was Roger Denman.

He was always in trouble.

I was sent out and Roger was given a lecture.

I sat in the bathroom until it was time for me to go home. I wasn't in the mood for company.

Mr. Evans caught up with me before I left and gave me my present. He said he would be calling my mom to talk to her about it.

/

He did. Called my mom that is.

I don't know how he had convinced her but she said it was okay.

She was just watching me with a small smile on her face. It seemed like I was the only thing that made her smile anymore.

I didn't want to be the reason she lost that small.

I was more timid than usual. I had started lying more too.

Whenever I was in a mood and my mom would ask about it, I would just say that I was missing dad.

Technically I wasn't lying because I missed him _all_ the time. I felt his absence everywhere. From his briefcase not being behind the door, his favorite coffee mug had disappeared, and his handy toolbox under the sink had been put in the back of mom's closet.

I couldn't stop thinking. Mr. Evans called me a girl and I didn't like it. I'm a boy. He knows that so why did he call me princess?

Despite the rough start of the Christmas holiday, Christmas itself was bittersweet.

Dad wasn't there and it was just me and mom. We had a good time. We even visited dad at the cemetery. Mom cried a lot and then we went home.

It was our first Christmas without him.

/

I kept having the urge to tell mom about Mr. Evans. He touched me again. Like the first time. It was the week we got back from break.

I was so sore that he had to drive me home. I preferred to walk and tried to do just that, but he wouldn't let me.

He kept calling me a girl. He called me another bad name to, but I knew I wasn't supposed to ever use it.

I wanted to tell her what he was doing, but I wasn't sure what he was doing.

I didn't have the words for it.

I wasn't sure I would be able to tell her. To give her details. I definitely didn't want to.

Every time I got ready to tell my mom, I chickened out. I didn't want to get in trouble. Besides, everybody likes Mr. Evans. They wouldn't believe me over him anyways.

/

Things got worse. A whole lot worse. He would touch me while I had to touch him. My body never did what he wanted. My penis never stood up like his.

I know he hates that.

He would talk about me when my body didn't do what he wanted it to.

"You might as well be a girl. Your dick doesn't work right. But that's okay. You make a better girl. Always so nervous around me."

I couldn't help it. I would cry and he would hold me. When he called me a girl I couldn't help but feel like I was failing miserably at being a boy. My penis never did the right stuff. I was embarrassed.

"It's nothing to be ashamed about. You're my special girl. You like that?"

I didn't respond.

"We're going to try something new."

I knew I wouldn't like it.

He scooted closer to me and pulled my clothes back up. I was beginning to think it might not be that bad until he grabbed the back of my neck and brought it to his penis.

"Wh-"

"No talking princess. Open your mouth."

I quickly got the picture of what he wanted, but I couldn't do that. You pee through there.

He didn't seem to care and pried my mouth open with his fingers.

He then shoved into my mouth.

"Don't bite. Put your lips over your teeth."

He began to move in and out slightly into my mouth and I was getting sick. He tasted strange and I wanted him out.

He squirted some stuff and was done.

"Here."

He pushed the trash bin over for me to spit in. I spat the stuff out and then promptly threw up. He patted me in the back until he was done.

"You did real good. A natural. You really are a girl huh?"

I stood up ready to leave.

"Sam you don't have to avoid me."

I broke eye contact.

"Yeah I noticed it. You always leave when I walk into a room. I'm not going to hurt you."

I found out that adults lie too.

/

Two more mouth sessions and I broke. Everything just built up inside me and boiled over. I waited by the front door after Mrs. Carol left until my mom got back home. When she walked through the door I noticed how worn she looked.

She was being overworked and hadn't complained once.

"Hey baby."

I ran into her arms sobbing. It wasn't abnormal for me to have a crying fit since dad had died.

"What's wrong baby?"

"I was bad."

"What is it?"

She had taken my face into her hands and was staring into my eyes.

"I don't want to tell you. You'll be mad at me."

"Samuel. Tell me what it is and I promise to hear you out. I'm sure you didn't mean to do anything bad. We all make mistakes."

"But I was _really_ bad."

She picked me up and walked me into her room and sat me on the bed. She walked into the kitchen and came back.

There was a glass of apple juice in her hands. She handed it to me. I drank it greedily. Happy for the small distraction.

"You can tell me anything Sam. _Anything_. I'll never be so mad that I stop loving you. What is it?"

My chest was so _heavy_. My throat was so _dry_ and _tight_. My nose was completely blocked and my eyes burned.

My hands were trembling and the blood had rushed to my ears.

"I don't know how."

Something in her eyes broke a little.

"Try."

"I don't have the _words_."

"What words baby?"

"I don't know what it is."

"Explain it and I'll help. You have to talk to me baby. You're scaring me."

"It's just all wrong. I want dad."

She pulled me into a hug and started rubbing circles in my back.

"I know Sam. I know. I want him too."

I told her everything.

Everything.

From Mr. Evans touching me, making me touch him, the gifts, the names; I even told her about the mouth stuff.

Words can't describe how she looked in that moment or how I felt.

She pulled me into her lap and began rocking me and crying with me.

Telling me she was sorry for not seeing. Sorry for not making enough time with me. Sorry for not asking questions.

She sounded so broken.

She took me to the hospital and they called the cops. I had to talk to a lot of people that kept asking me the same questions.

Mr. Evans was given a deal. If he confessed, he would get 2 years in prison and 2 years of probation. That's it. I thought 2 years was a lot, but I could tell mom didn't.

Not everything was bad. The hospital let mom change her hours so that she could spend more time with me.

It was weird the first couple of days. Mom kept trying to put on a brave face and it made me feel bad that she thought she had to do that for me. She would randomly give me talks about how some people did bad things to other people and it didn't mean they deserved it.

That they were innocent.

I didn't believe her.

She would cry in her room at night when she thought I was asleep and pray to be a more thoughtful mother. She even called out dad's name a few times.

More than one policeman had asked why I didn't say no. Why I didn't fight. One even asked me if I might have liked it. Even a little bit.

I got so upset that I started to cry and my mom took me home.

I never saw that officer again.

I didn't know I _could_ say no.

You don't back talk grown folks. It's _their_ job to protect _you_.

Me and mom had to go to classes about good touches and bad touches. The court had appointed me a therapist to talk to.

She helped me a lot. Not just with Mr. Evans but with dad's death. She had a lot of pound puppy toys in her room. It was almost like having a real dog.

Mr. Evans taught me that looks can be deceiving.

My therapist taught me that it was okay to heal. It didn't mean I thought what he did was okay.

My mom and dad instilled in me a sense of gratitude, charity, and selflessness. I didn't magically get to a good place, but I was getting help figuring things out. Feeling safe again. Learning to trust again.

It was an uphill battle that I was determined to win and after years I did.

/

I got a notification from J.A.R.V.I.S. It was really from Bruce. I decided to add my own to his list. I had picked up a lot from my own therapist and eventually becoming one.

1\. Ground yourself in the present

2\. Marvin Gaye 1972 Trouble Man Soundtrack

3\. Stay connected and don't isolate yourself


	4. Tony

_I sincerely apologize for the long delay in all of my stories. I live in Texas and when Hurricane Harvey hit, my town got a little backlash. For a while the stores were basically empty, the mail wasn't running, and gas prices shot up. (All is back to normal now) On top of that, university started up again. Classes were delayed for a week and then my schedule picked up really fast. October 8th my first niece, and my parents' first grandchild, was born. I just got past midterms and I have a lot of responsibilities I'm accountable for. I finally found a moment to write some more. Thank you for your continued patience and without further ado…_

 _As always I don't own anything MARVEL related._

 _Same WARNINGS & TRIGGERS APPLY_

 **Tony**

Mutual affection was as cozy a phrase I could use that explained my parents' union. An heiress and an heir got married and had a kid who would inherit both fortunes. Same story different names.

Busy. Every one of us were busy. Mother had charities, banquets, and galas to organize and fund. Father had meetings, conferences, and negotiations to handle. Between studying 3 foreign languages, piano, advanced physics and applied mathematics I barely had time to sleep. Not that sleep was so important to me.

The only thing the elite can't buy is time.

I had unlimited access to exorbitant amounts of money, and so little time to do anything with it.

I had just got a break from boarding school. Howard thought it would toughen me up by sending me there. It hadn't changed me. Not really. I was still top dog. Everyone knew my name. The teachers were afraid to discipline me and the students hesitant to oppose me. I could skip class everyday, not turn in any work, and still pass with a C.

The only difference in my life was that my mom wasn't there.

She wasn't a constant buffer from Howard's criticisms. From the media's judgmental eyes. From my peers' mindless adulation.

It was me, myself, and I. Howard wanted it that way. I was out of mind and out of sight. He had more important things to focus on. Like finding Captain America. I never did completely understand it. He spent loads of money trying to find a dead man. If he weren't a proven genius, I would write him off as a fool.

He was a man possessed. I tried to understand the allure to it.

Robotics was my muse. I could work on the same part for three solid months with little to no improvement and not lose interest even once. But that was different. Numbers, bolts, and formulas were _interesting_. There's always something to learn. Finding a dead man's body was just that. A dead man's body. Case closed.

He had a real life son that he could talk to and work to have a stable relationship with, but instead he was off playing mummies.

It was frustrating on a good day.

It never took me long to unpack because I never took a lot with me in the first place. I didn't need to pack clothes for boarding school because we wore uniforms and I had no personal items.

I came home to a mostly empty house. Jarvis met me at the door and told me my parents wouldn't be able to make it today.

I just shrugged it off and ran up the stairs. I wasn't fast enough. I saw the pity in his eyes.

I hated being pitied. Mostly because there was nothing I could do or say to deceive people into believing I was okay. That my parents actually loved me. I gave up on making excuses for them a long time ago.

My mother tried her best, but even she lived easier with me gone. Her weekly calls turned into monthly emails.

My father paid my tuition, donated, and sponsored scholarships. I hadn't spoken to him since school started.

He told me not to embarrass him. To remember that I was a Stark first and foremost.

I threw my empty luggage across the carpet. It didn't go very far.

Bored and dreading my stay home already, I fell onto my bed.

I stayed like that until I fell asleep.

It was more intuition than actual awareness. I felt someone in my room. I thought it was Jarvis so I kept my eyes closed. He knew I would want to be left alone.

Instead of hearing footsteps shuffle out of the room, I heard them come closer to me. They were hesitant.

I knew then that it had to be one of the maids because Jarvis' steps are quick and uniform.

I opened my eyes and she was standing nearly over me.

"Well?"

I didn't even bother to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

She looked equally annoyed.

"You're a bit of a brat aren't you?"

We were both surprised at that. It was apparent that she hadn't meant to say that out loud. I didn't even care. I just wanted her out of my space so I could sulk some more.

"Yeah. The brat that could make you lose your job. Get lost."

As far as I was concerned, that was the end of it.

"I don't think I will."

I was angry now. I swung my feet over the bed and stood up. Embarrassingly enough, she was a few inches taller than me.

She smirked at my defiance.

"I said leave. What were you doing in here anyways?"

"I was told to come up here and help you unpack. I get here and you're sprawled all over the bed. I was just going to make sure you weren't dead or something."

The way she was twirling her hair told me she was lying, but about what I couldn't be sure.

It's perfectly logical that someone sent her up here to help me unpack. I don't know why she would lie about that. I called her on it anyways.

"I live with billionaires who are taught to deceive and persuade at birth. Try again."

She just looked me up and down.

"You know I can see it. Howard Stark's son. Aside from the height you do take after him. You're even kind of cute. Not that there's any such thing as an ugly billionaire."

My face turned red. I wasn't so confident that even a backhanded compliment from a beautiful woman didn't get to me.

And she was beautiful. She was all legs, shiny red hair, and breasts.

She laughed and walked up to me until we were chest to chest.

"See something you like?"

"Leave. Now."

"What's the problem? Not so sure of yourself anymore? I'll bet you've had plenty of women. What with being the heir to Stark Industries and all."

I broke eye contact and it was enough for her.

"Oh. I see. Still a virgin. I can't say I'm not surprised. I can help you with that you know."

I was used to older women flirting with me, but none so blatant as this.

"You should _leave_."

My voice cracked at the end. Her breasts were very distracting and she knew it.

"Want to touch them?"

"No."

I was lying.

"Sure you don't. Want me to touch you?"

I absently heard my own shocked gasp.

"Leave or I'll have you escorted out."

"Escorted out for what? This?"

She had grabbed my dick. Hard. It was uncomfortable and I wasn't sure what to do. If I called out for help I would be laughed at. I was 14. Surely I could fight off a 22 year old woman.

I didn't call for help.

"Stop that."

I tried to remove her hand, but before I could she grabbed my hands and put them on her breasts.

I was intrigued.

They felt even better than I could have imagined. Soft, firm, and squishy all in one. Her moaning snapped me out of it. I jerked my hands back.

"Why did you stop? This'll feel good for you."

"In case you haven't noticed I'm only 14. A minor."

She chuckled like she was laughing at a 4-year-old's joke.

"What does it matter? Guys lose their v-card at 14 all the time."

I could believe that. The guys at school always bragged about getting to 3rd base and shagging so-and-so. How much of it was true I couldn't be sure.

I took a step back.

She took one forward and pushed me to the bed.

With how quick she pulled down my pants I was sure she had done this before.

I was outraged.

"I just told you no!"

I was not used to not having people do what I told them.

"Look. You might be 14 but you're a certified genius. You're smart enough to know you're getting a good deal. Just relax and I'll make it good for you."

Before I could formulate a coherent response, she went down on me.

To this day it was the only blow job I never enjoyed.

I was frozen.

I could tell she was getting frustrated with my lack of an erection. She let me slide out of her mouth and just looked at me weird.

"Are you gay?"

I flushed all the way to my stomach.

"No. Just leave now. You got what you wanted."

She just huffed and walked out of my room.

If I cried when she left, I can't remember.

I was constantly angry about the whole situation. I don't know if it was my impotence, her actions, or my lack of action, but I was angry. More so than usual. I wanted to be left alone and started refusing meals. Even Jarvis couldn't get me to eat.

As humiliating as me not being able to become erect was, nothing made me more upset than the fact that she tried to convince me that that shit was okay.

That I was a _"certified genius"_ and mature enough to say yes.

If she really thought I was mature enough to say yes, she would have accepted that I was _also_ mature enough to say no. Which I did.

Instead of eating I snuck into my dad's study and stole sips from his "secret stash."

I didn't have a tolerance for alcohol then. A few sips were all it took.

3 days later that's how my parents found me. In old wrinkled clothes crumpled halfway underneath his desk.

"Get up!"

I winced.

"Not so loud Howard. He has a hangover."

"He's 14 he shouldn't have a hangover. What are you doing drinking anyways?"

I was too sloshed and too upset to curb my words.

"What do you care? As long as you can keep me out of sight and pretend to be a decent father to the public eye your job is as good as done right? You haven't spoken to me in over 5 months. I'm sure between wasting money looking for a ghost and ignoring your wife you couldn't fit in a phone call."

Before I knew it he had me pinned over his desk. My mother was trying to pull us apart.

"If you ever talk to me like that again I'll send you to a year round boarding school until you're 18 and then disinherit you. You'll have _nothing_! I'm not here to cater to you. It's just my job to provide for you. If you weren't so sensitive, you could see how much I'm helping you."

"Howard!"

My father let me up.

"You continue to disappoint me. Go get cleaned up."

That was the most honest he'd ever been with me. He apologized later and said he was just stressed and was speaking from anger, but we both knew it was a poor excuse.

 _Knock. Knock. Knock._

"What?"

My mother peered into my room. Seeing that I wasn't going to invite her in she pushed the door fully open and walked in anyways.

"I spoke to Jarvis."

I couldn't contain the sigh that escaped my mouth.

"I'm-"

"You are not fine! You haven't been eating. What's wrong? Talk to me."

I turned on her.

"Talk to you? _Now_ you want to talk to me? What was stopping you from talking to me before? I left you several messages. All I got back were prefabricated responses that I'm 100% sure your assistant wrote anyways."

She looked shamefaced and I felt guilty. Mother tried. Honestly she did. She's just raising me like her parents raised her. They paid for all of her expenses, covered up any scandals, and generally left her alone until it was almost time for her to inherit.

They implemented a very laissez-faire parenting style.

She sat next to me on the bed and ran her fingers through my hair like she used to when I was still small enough to sit in her lap.

"You're right. I should have written more. I know it's no consolation now. I just want you to know that I'm still learning. I do care. I want you to be happy."

And she meant that. She wanted me to be happy. She was just never really sure what that took on her part to ensure it. I vaguely remember my maternal grandparents. My grandmother died when I was 4 and my grandfather when I was 7. They were very indulging.

Howard couldn't stand them. Said they were making me weak.

It was no wonder mother thought dad was too harsh. Her parents were nothing like that. They gave her free reign and tried to support her. Their only real expectation of her was to take over the family business and marry well. Other than that, she was her own person.

"I know mom."

"You sure you don't want to tell me what's going on? Jarvis seems really worried. He said you weren't even working on your robots. I know your father doesn't want you to, but your credit card is on my account. You can order any pieces you need. If robotics is important to you, stick with it."

"Thanks mom. I just haven't been feeling very inspired lately."

She waited for me to finish. I was secretly grateful she took the time to come and talk to me.

Much to my chagrin I started to cry. The strangled deranged kind. She looked alarmed.

"Anthony what is it? Whatever it is we'll take care of it. But you have to tell me what it is."

This wasn't a problem money could fix. Sure it could make the maid go away, but I was still here. My parents weren't going to change who they were just because of this.

I steadied my breath.

"One of the maids. She-" I couldn't say blow job in front of my mind. No matter how accommodating she was.

"She put me in her mouth. I told her to stop. I asked her to leave several times. I couldn't…I didn't respond how she wanted and she left. I feel like an idiot. She's a chick and-"

She engulfed me into a hug.

"I'll take care of this Anthony. I need you to tell me which maid it was. You'll never have to see her again. I promise."

I pushed off of her.

"You can't say anything mom. If dad finds out how weak I really am. I don't know what I would do."

Her voice was fierce.

"You are not weak Anthony. She took advantage of you. She's the adult in the situation. She should have left as soon as you told her to. I'm so sorry I wasn't here. We have to contact the authorities darling."

"Mom you don't understand. I didn't even try to stop her. I just spaced out. I don't think I can tell the police that."

"You won't have to. They'll arrest her. We can keep this as quiet as you like. She's going to rot…Mother will take care of it. But your father will have to know."

I tried to reason with her, but she was adamant.

"I'll talk to him Anthony. You don't have to tell him anything if you don't want to. Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

I sat up straighter.

"Unless you want to hear about your son's incompetence, no."

We both winced.

"Antho-"

"Just stop mom. I didn't even mean it. It's stupid. Just can you make sure this doesn't get out. And dad…I really don't want him to know."

She hugged me again.

"I know, but this isn't something I can keep from him. If he doesn't hear it from us, he'll hear it from someone else. He has eyes and ears everywhere."

We talked for a few more minutes and she encouraged me to eat. I had a bowl of grapes. I knew she wanted me to eat more, but I had no appetite.

I wasn't supposed to hear them. They were in Howard's study so I know they chose this spot intentionally. I avoided Howard's study at all costs.

"It's not that big of a deal Maria. So the boy got a bad blow job."

"Stop it. Stop that right now! He's not _the boy_. His name is Anthony! You don't care about anything except Captain America. He's gone Howard. He's dead. But your son is not. He's only 14 years old. He looks up to you and he can't understand why you don't even bother to try with him."

"Maria, I've given the boy anything he could possibly ask for."

"That's not true and you know it! I won't let you drop this. That woman will not get away with what she did to our son. He's afraid right now. Of you and what you'll think. And unfortunately it looks like he was right. What is wrong with you?"

"If you want this woman locked away fine, but let's not let Tony get stuck in a victim mindset. He's a stark. He'll bounce back."

 _Slam!_

Mother must have thrown a book. Probably a textbook dad financed.

"Shut up! Don't forget that I have resources too. I will see her punished for what she did. Would you care if it was a guy?"

It got quiet.

" _Wow_. So that's what it is. You really don't think anything bad happened because she's a woman?"

I left after that. I knew what dad would think. I tried to tell mother but she didn't want to believe me.

I took meals in my room for the next few days. Nobody tried to force me out of my room and I was left alone.

I was so _angry_ all the time. I'm not sure if it was because the maid thought I was gay, that I didn't get hard, that I didn't fight her seriously, or that my father certainly knew what a failure I was now.

I went to the study off of my bedroom. It's were I conducted all of my experiments. I was most at home surrounded by rusted screws, dirty bolts, and random engines. I realized that I hadn't stepped foot into my fortress of solitude since I got home.

Everything was the exact same way I had left it.

Blueprints scattered across the desk, unused computer software in boxes on the floor, empty soda cans at the foot of the waste basket, and half-finished projects abandoned in the corner of the room.

I walked over to my desk. I figured tinkering would clear my mind. It didn't. It just gave me more time to my thoughts. Thoughts I had no real desire to confront.

I had no idea what to do with my time. I used to crash from exhaustion trying to cram everything I wanted to do in a week into one day. Now I had ample time and nothing to distract me.

"Oh, there you are!"

It was mother. _Again_.

"Yeah."

She wasn't really making eye contact with me. Instead finding confidence in some random point on the wall behind me.

It's the same thing I do when talking to Howard.

"I talked to your father. We've alerted the proper authorities and your name will be kept off of any files. As far as a trial goes, there's no need for one. It's been taken care of. She got life in prison for indecent conduct with a child."

I was beginning to grow nauseous.

"Is that all?"

She released a long slow breath then.

"Me and your father think it would be a good idea for you to talk to a professional. Just to make sure you're really alright."

"Dad's okay with this?"

Rubbing her hands up and down my arms she looked me in the eyes.

"Your father comes from a family where you keep everything locked away. Problems stay within the family. We can't rely on his judgement right now for something like this okay?"

I just nodded my head.

Only days after I had started counseling did Howard pull me aside and warn me not to have the doctor thinking I was a total nut job. Not to spill any Stark family secrets. Other than that, he never mentioned it again. It was a yet another sore spot between us.

It took weeks of counseling for me to get back to status quo. I can't help but think that I should have taken it all more seriously. Really bared my soul to Dr. Calvin when I was a teenager and gotten past some of my daddy issues instead of brushing him off and giving one word responses.

It wasn't a complete waste of time though. The doctor did give me a lot to think about. One of the things he said to me about knowing when to get help was that when you _knew_ you were spiraling out of control, and yet not able to stop, it was time to reach out.

Rhodey and Pepper were my lifelines. I would've given up a long time ago if it weren't for them holding me up, checking in on me, and cleaning up my messes.

I'm not one to give advice. For obvious reasons. I mean most of my greatest inventions started off as morally ambiguous experimentations.

"J.A.R.V.I.S. upload new list…"

1\. My movie collection is out of this world, so feel free to make use of it.

2\. I have an agreement with the shawarma shop a few blocks away. They'll deliver here 24/7. I have a tab with them. Order what you want.

3\. This is Stark Tower! We have state of the art facilities for everything from archery ranges to bowling alleys.


End file.
